


Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice

by PinkToby



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Headaches, Hurt/Comfort, and so is will graham, preschoolers are adorable, so much fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkToby/pseuds/PinkToby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham interacts with a four-year-old girl.  Ready, set, FLUFF!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice

Another day, another mental breakdown.

Special Agent Will Graham plopped down into one of the plastic-leather chairs outside of Jack Crawford's office and sighed.  Murder, murder, murder-- his life was an endless string of murders that glitter like diamonds and could cut just as deep.  He took out his well-used bottle of Asprin and popped two of them into his mouth to stave off the headache that wracked his abused brain.

"What are those?"

A high-pitched voice to his right made him nearly choke on the pills he had chosen to dry-swallow, and he quickly turned his head to locate the source of the sound.  There was nothing-- wait, no, he saw something move towards the bottom of his vision.  That _something_ turned out to be a four-year-old girl, who looked up at him with expectant green eyes.  

"It's my medication, uh, for headaches," he said, putting the bottle back into his jacket pocket.

"Oh," she hummed, as she took a moment to process the information.  She kicked her legs back and forth, pink glitter shoes making tiny, sparkling blurs appear where her feet were supposed to be.  "Are you sick, then?"

"Uh...yeah, I guess you could say that."

"What do you mean?"  She drew her legs up under her, and turned to face him, little fists grasping at the tulle of her pink tutu skirt.  "Are you okay?"

"I, uh..."  How was he supposed to explain this to a little girl?  It was too late to back out of the conversation, and, to be honest, he wouldn't be able to handle the child's disappointment if he shot her down the way most adults no doubt have done in the past. "Yeah, uh, I should be."

"Good!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together and smiling as wide as her lips would allow.  Will smiled back, before a pang of pain seared across his forhead and made his hands grip the armrests of his chair until his knuckles turned white.

"It still hurts sometimes, though," he muttered, hoping his display hadn't scared the child too much.  His eyes were still squeezed shut, willing the pain to become at least a managable dull ache.  Waiting for the medication to kick in had always been the worst part of the entire ordeal, since he still had a good half hour of discomfort after swallowing the pills before he began to feel any relief.  His hands automatically went to rub at his temples-- a futile attempt by his subconscious to drive away the pain.  

"Is that where it hurts?"  He felt something on the back of his hand, only to realize that it was the warm palm of the little girl trying to remove his right hand from his head.  He obliged, opening his eyes only to see the little girl peering intently at his face, nose not three inches away from his own.  

"Yes," he sighed, too exhausted by pain to be uncomfortable by her scrutiny.  "It, uh, it kind of hurts all over."

"Here, let me help."  Suddenly, there was a tiny hand on either of his shoulders and a pair of lips at his forehead-- wait, _what?_   She didn't linger a moment before pulling back, hands still on his shoulders and a satisfied smile on her lips.

"Whenever I get hurt, my mommy or daddy kisses the ouchy and it makes it better!  Now you can feel better, too!"

"Uh, thank you?"

She sat back down like she had before with a little nod, this time reaching into a pink plastic backpack by her feet and taking out a coloring book and a 24-pack of crayons, leaving Will to stew in his confusion and semi-embarrassment.  This little girl didn't even know his name, and she had been so... _kind_ to him, even if it wasn't exactly appropriate-- oh, hell, she's a  _four-year-old_ , and he-- 

"Alright, sweetheart, ready to go-- oh, hey Will."  

Jimmy Price walked into the room, eliciting a happy cry of 'daddy!' from the little girl in the chair next to Will.  Her coloring book lay abandoned on the seat as she ran over and hugged him, her arms wrapped securely around his knees.  

"Hey..."  Will replied quietly.

"I hope Ellie here didn't bother you too much...she can be a bit of a handful!"  Jimmy bent down and gave her a quick kiss on the head and told her to grab her bag, and the little girl nodded and skipped back to the chair to begin putting away her crayon masterpiece.  

"No, uh, not...not at all.  She's sweet."

"Well, that's good to hear.  Anyways, we best be going before Jack comes at me with another case; he's in a pretty bad mood today.  The Ripper been eating away at him again...no pun intended.  Come on, Ellie!  Let's go home and see what Mom made for dinner!"

The little girl bounded across the room, pink backpack jostling with her bounching steps, but she didn't go to her father's side.  Instead, she stopped in front of Will and threw her arms around his legs, hugging him with the sincerity only a preschool-age child can.  

"Please feel better soon," she whispered into his pantleg, before running off to her confused-- albeit touched--father.  

Will watched them walk away before taking out his hand bottle of painkillers--and then promptly put it away.  

His head didn't hurt after all.

  


End file.
